A Reason to Live
by Spokensilenc3
Summary: Max is struggling- she has a crazy boyfriend, an alcoholic brother and a mother who doesn't care. Can Fang, who just moved to California, give her a reason to live? Fax, rated T cause I'm paranoid. No wings AH
1. A mother who doesn't care

**Hi everyone. Let me know what you think in reviews.**

**I don't own Maximum Ride.**

The young girl kneeled in the pouring rain in front of the gravestone, silent tears dripping slowly down her pale face. She stared, unseeing, at the face of the cement; past the crudely carved words "David Ride – Too Young to Die" and into her memory – memory of a handsome man in an army uniform, laughing and hugging a smaller version of the girl goodbye, so blessedly ignorant of the future. Her memory played like a silent movie – she saw everything, but could only here the roaring of her ears and the rain pouring heavily onto the stones.

The girl watched in her minds eye as the man pressed something into younger girl's hand, fingering the chain around her own neck and reading again the words "David Ride – US Navy" again with eyes blurry with tears. She couldn't hear what the man said next, but she had replayed the words many times in her head in the two long years of waiting, and knew them off by heart.

"Keep it safe, Maxie, until I come back." He smiled, pouring the chain into her open palm. "I love you, Maximum. Always remember that."

The girl angrily swiped at her tears as more dripped down her face, pushing back her curly sun-streaked hair. Her brown eyes were wide with sadness, her frame wracked with pain. Slowly, she stood, and trudged brokenly away from her dead father's grave.

**XXX 6 Years Later XXXXX**

**MAX**

I hope you have never had to experience anything like what happened. That sort of pain should be spared of any poor soul. I have a sad story. Deal with it. Firstly – I am Maximum Ride, but Max is shorter. You could say it would be my nickname for friends to call me by, but that would be if I actually had any friends. Welcome to my sorry life, where my Mom's always high on who-knows-what drugs, my Dad's dead, my boyfriend's crazy and my brother's an alcoholic partier.

How do I deal with it? Well, you could say I have a lot of things on my mind, and try not to think about it that much. I street fight for money. Illegal, I know, but who cares? It's not like I'm going to report it – that's the only way I get money, other than my dodgy night time waitressing job. I don't get much sleep, so I rest during class times. My grades drop rock bottom, but when it's a choice between living and grades I say living.

You know when I had I have no friends – well, that isn't entirely true. Iggy, my best/only friend, is the best friend anyone could wish for. Supportive, funny and overprotective. There for me when I need him most – like the caring older brother I used to have.

OK – I'll start from the beginning. When I was eight years old, I had a happy family. A loving father, a caring mother, a happy older brother, and altogether a perfect life.

That was until the war came. I remember the very day Dad was sent off to Vietnam with perfect focus. We sent him letters every single week, and receiving replies were the highlight of my life. It was almost fun. That kept up for around a year. Then, suddenly, the letters stopped coming. They just stopped. Mom has never been the most strong emotionally, and when we realised he wasn't writing back she broke down. Sobbing, hysterics, everything. After a while she started drugs, saying he was never coming back, and he was off with another woman. She sunk further and further into depression, lost in her own world of drugs. Most days she just stayed locked up in her room, staring at nothing and smoking those horrible mind-corrupting drugs.

That was when I was nine and my older brother, Dylan, was twelve. One year later, we got unceremoniously told by the US Navy that David Ride had been killed in action six months ago. Mom was too far into her own world of drugs to care, and Dylan was spending more and more time with his friends, getting into the wrong crowd and drinking his sorrows away. I somehow scraped up enough money to have a decent burial, but it wasn't ideal. I think Dad would've understood, though.

I was the only one at the funeral.

Two months later, Mom suddenly got pregnant with Ari, my little step-brother. Jeb, his evil father, tricked my poor mind-boggled mother into marrying him, and promptly moved us to California, all the time feeding off of our dwindling money supply. After robbing us of everything we ever had of worth, he took off, leaving us with no money and his one-year-old son. I was only fourteen, but I had two jobs trying to keep us all fed and off the streets.

I remember the day I met Iggy clear as day. It was a Saturday, and I remember being exhausted from the long week. I sprained my ankle quite badly from one of my fights, and had a nasty black eye. I was sitting on my favourite swing at a dirty, graffiti-ridden park, tracing patterns in the sand with one grimy, worn converse toe, swinging slightly. Suddenly a shadow blocked the light, and I squinted up to see a tall figure hovering over me. I scowled angrily at him and got up to leave. But he just sat down on the swing set next to me, rocking gently. After a while, he commented casually,

"Nice weather, isn't it?"

And that's just how he is. He doesn't push you for information, not asking about my mysterious bruises until I was ready to tell him. He's the only one I really love, apart from Ari and Sam. I love him like an older brother.

When I was fifteen, I fell hopelessly head-over-heels for a boy with a troubled past – Sam. We started dating, but he never really felt the same way about me that I did him. He had a good heart though – he kept dating me, trying his best for me. He had screwed up so many things, he said, he thought he could finally do something right for once. Most days he's drunk, but I still love him. He's been through a lot – I can't blame him for the alcohol. When he was young, both parents died in a car crash. His foster parents for four years were abusive, and he recently got adopted by another family – who completely ignore him. He's had a hard life, and I can relate.

Sometimes I consider running away with him – getting away from the horrible streets of the city, living somewhere peaceful, but Mom and Ari need me. Ari's adorable, with my mom's sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes.

Anyway. I guess I should tell you what I look like – I have brown, curly, sun-streaked hair, limp and lifeless from malnourishment. I have tan skin and brown eyes from my father, and I'm pretty tall for a sixteen-year-old – lean and muscled. My hands are scarred and calloused from fighting, and somehow, in school, the rumour got out that I street fight. I have a deathly glare, various scars, and noticeable bruises all the time that I can't bother to cover up. So all in all, everybody pretty much stays away from me. Except for Iggy, of course. Sam doesn't go to school. His parents don't care and he can't afford it himself. I would help out, if I wasn't just getting by with money myself.

**FANG**

I hate moving. I've only done it twice, but each time is worse than the last. I build a life around the place I live – and I don't like to leave. Especially in the middle of high school, with a girlfriend, a bunch of friends, and all in all a perfect life. Nudge, my adoptive sister, is excited and talkative as ever, Gazzy and Angel, the twins Dr M adopted last year, are hyper from the amount of sugar they ate on the ride and are literally bouncing off the walls. Dr M is my adoptive mother, and she drives carefully in the front seat, looking stressed.

Well, I'm Fang Martinez; sixteen years old and moving to California. I'm really tall, have olive skin, black hair and black eyes. I'm not emo. I just like the color black. A lot. I don't talk much, and have an unreadable emotionless mask I've mastered over the years. I just feel like giving people access to my emotions is like giving them power over me. Don't judge.

Anyway – I should describe us. Nudge is thirteen and really pretty, with mocha skin, curly black hair and big, brown doe eyes, but boy is she chatterbox. And a shop-a-holic. Fashion - *shudder* - I don't understand a word of it.

The Gasman (AKA Gazzy) has blonde, spiked hair and bright blue eyes. He loves making bombs, is a prankster, and Angel's twin. They're both eleven.

Don't be fooled by Angel's name. She's a manipulative little devil, but I love her anyway. She's got curly blonde hair, huge blue eyes and dimples. She can get away with anything with those angelic looks.

Dr M is like our real mom – she adopted us all when we around eight, so she really is like our true mother. She bakes the best food – I would do anything for her choc-chip cookies.

Our dog, Total, a little black Scottie, is like a part of our family too. Angel loves him to death, and even I, the emotionless rock, will admit he's adorable.

Finally, we pulled into a driveway of a pretty two-story house. The garden is overgrown, but it's a pretty blue color and has a pleasant openness. We step out, absorbing the warm sunlight. Gazzy and Angel race up the steps screaming and yelling. Nudge is ranting something about the mall as always, and Dr M grabs her bags and lugs them up the steps to her room. I take my own bags and run up the stairs. My lips twitch up into a half-smile when I see my room – its painted black, with a white bed and comfy beanbags. I actually like it.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAA

BEEP! BEEP!

Ugghhhh….. I roll over and slam my hand onto the alarm. 7:00am. I hate waking up. Dr M leans in, calling,

"School! Get ready!" I moan tiredly. I hate school.

**XXXXXXXXX AT SCHOOL XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Class, this is... uh… Fang Martinez." The teacher, Mrs Heart, says to the homeroom class. "You can sit next to Max." she directs me to a girl in the back with a dazed expression, staring out the window. She has curly hair, a tan and a leather jacket. "Just…" Mrs Heart hesitates. "Be careful. Not all of our students are as fortunate as you." She says with a sad smile. Curious, I walk to the back and sit down next to Max. She looks up, confusion creeping into her brown eyes. I can see why people usually don't sit next to her.

She is lean and muscled, dangerously pretty, but also badly beaten up. A long scar runs gown one cheek, and she has a black eye and a split lip. When my eyes flicker to her hands, which are curled tightly into fists under the table, they're also scarred. I stick my hand out and introduce myself. She glares at me angrily, but I keep my calm mask. She examines every inch of my body critically, and I resist the urge to shift uncomfortably. Finally, I put my hand back and pay attention to the teacher. When I look back at Max she's staring out the window again. I squint at her – I don't know, but something just seems… off about her. And I'm going to find out what it is.

**Just saying, but this story isn't Sax or Miggy. It is strictly Fax. And Iggy isn't blind. Review please!**

**NAMMAN**


	2. The park, smiles and peaceful silences

**Hi! Thanks for everyone's reviews**.

**I don't own Maximum Ride. **

**FANG **

At lunchtime, I meet up with Nudge. She has another girl with her, who introduces herself as JJ. I see Max slouching at another table, wearing large aviator glasses. The table is completely deserted except for another tall, pale boy I've seen around the school before.

"Who's that?" I ask JJ, nodding my head at Max and the boy.

"Maximum Ride?" JJ laughs, sounding shocked. The whole cafeteria seems still, staring at JJ and me. "Don't mess with her, Fang." JJ is suddenly dead serious. "She once put Cameron Wilder, quarterback of the football team, in hospital. The rumour is she street fights." She sounds nervous, eyes flickering back to Max. But Max seems to be sleeping, the boy eating silently next to her. My eyes widen in shock when JJ says street fighting. JJ notices, and nods. "Yup," she says in a rough whisper. "She street fights. But most of all, she's just plain scary. And a freaking ninja."

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A day later, I knew that Max mostly slept at lunchtimes, so I was free to ask about her. I don't know why I'm so interested in her – something about her fascinates me. I don't know why. Everybody I talked to warned me about her, but that just fed my growing curiosity.

"Curiosity killed the cat, man." Cameron Wilder, the boy who had gotten beaten up, said to me grimly when I asked him what happened. "Maximum Ride doesn't like being talked about."

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One week later at lunchtime, some poor boy was dared to go and steal the sunglasses Max had worn for the past lunchtimes. He approached her carefully, the whole cafeteria watching. The boy who sat next to her, who I learned was called Iggy, sat watching in silent amusement.

There was dead silence – even the teachers were watching. When the boy was a hands width away and she didn't react, he smiled triumphantly and reached forward to grab the glasses from the table. But halfway there, Max struck like a snake. I was amazed at how fast she moved – one moment the boy had his hand extended, a glint of determination in his eyes, but a millisecond later it was in a death grip, Max squeezing tightly. I thought I heard a crunch as Max grinded his bones painfully together. His face was white in pain and fear, but when Max spoke, her voice was deathly calm.

"Would you like my sunglasses?" she asked innocently, like she wasn't squeezing his hand, and like they were having a polite conversation between friends. He nodded furiously, eyes wide.

"Wrong answer." Max ground out. She suddenly leaned forward, all control gone.

"They're _my_ sunglasses." She hissed, suddenly feral, spittle flying from her white lips, a dangerous, crazed look in her furiously glimmering eyes. She loosened her grip on his hand, regaining her composure. A carefully blank look covered her face, and she asked "Okay?" in an almost kind voice, patting his cheek. He nodded and stumbled away, dazed and white faced. Iggy was now having fits of uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down his face. Max slowly got up, face tight. Then she limped away, and I'm sure I saw a drop of blood smear the floor as her foot dragged across the ground.

Right now I'm half-standing, crushed with indecision. Should I follow Max? I'll probably get beaten up, but she looked like she needed help and Iggy was just eating normally, like nothing was wrong. That makes my mind. I stand up, ignoring Nudge and JJ's calls, and stride confidently in the direction Max headed in.

I find her leaning against a wall outside, eyes closed, but tense and tightly strung. I notice blood staining one jean leg – she mindlessly flicks an army knife open and closed. Open and closed. I hesitate as I see her – is this really a good idea? Just as I'm about to leave, she speaks.

"What do you want?" she asks hoarsely. For the first time I see the wetness of her face, and notice the redness of her swollen eyes – she's been crying.

But that can't be right – Maximum Ride doesn't cry.

"What's wrong?" I ask carefully. She gives a harsh, mirthless laugh.

"Everything's wrong." She says shortly. She suddenly opens one eye, then the other.

"You're that Tooth guy, huh?" she says.

"Fang," I say hesitantly. She nods slowly. She sighs and slides into a sitting position on the ground, closing her eyes again. She pats the ground next to her and motions for me to sit. Afraid to disobey, I nervously place myself beside her, but not too close. I eventually relax as Max rests her head on the wall and appears to be sleeping.

I watch her face carefully, noticing for the first time a few freckles dotting her nose, and how long her eyelashes are, casting spiky shadows on her high cheekbones. After a while, Max speaks.

"I know you're watching me, you know." She says dryly, the side of her mouth curling into a tiny smirk. I feel the corners of my mouth turn up in a responding smile, and we stay that way for a long time – just sitting there silently with small, knowing smiles on our faces.

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It's a Saturday, two weeks after that day with Max. We haven't talked since, but I can sense a sort of peace between us. It's been a month since we moved, and I quite like it in California. I've made a few friends, along with JJ. A girl named Tess, and another girl named Ella. Dr M and the twins are going for a walk, and I'm just lying on my bed doing nothing.

After a while of doing nothing, Dr M pokes her head into my room, saying, looking worried,

"Can you please take Gazzy and Angel for a walk? I just got a call from the clinic, and I'm needed immediately." Dr M works as a vet, and that's why we moved. She gets calls all the time to work extra time because she's needed.

"Okay," I say. "I just need to go get my jacket."

**5 minutes later…..**

"Fang," Angel whines. "Fang, Fang, Fang, Fang, Fang! I want to go to the park!"

"Okay!" I finally shout, throwing my arms up in frustration. "Okay, we'll go to the park."

"Yay!" Angel's eyes brighten and she skips ahead, tapping Gazzy on the shoulder and yelling, "You're it!" I smile fondly at her back. She's so adorable.

When we get to the park, I hear a voice from the swings – a high voice squealing in boyish delight.

"Higher, Maxie! Higher!" As we get closer, I can make out two figures; a small boy on the swing, and a tall, older girl pushing happily. The boy is screaming in joy, and I can make out a bright grin on the girl's face. It's because of that grin that I almost don't recognise her – that heart-stopping, brilliant grin, full of happiness and contentedness. As I stand here in stunned silence, Gazzy and Angel looking on questioningly, I find it hard to believe that this same carefree girl is Maximum Ride, the teenager who seems like everyday she's more than twice her age. It was as if with this child, all of Max's regrets vanish.

**MAX**

It's rare times like these that I feel really, truly happy. Like the whole world revolves around me and Ari; his beautiful, delighted laugh ringing in my ears, the wind in my face, my hair, feeling as if I'm flying. An almost unstoppable grin breaks across my face – it's as if, here with Ari, I can stop worrying so much and become a normal, loving sixteen-year-old.

I barely notice the three figures in the distance, getting closer and closer, until they're a few meters away. Ari stops swinging, the chains moaning in protest, and I feel the smile drop off my face, replaced by its usual emotionless mask. I recognise Fang, but the blonde siblings are unfamiliar. Ari's hand finds the back of my shirt; he slips off the swing set and ducks behind me. I stare at the three children distrustingly.

"Hi, Max." Fang says calmly. "This is Angel and Gazzy." The little girl gives a big, friendly smile and the boy stares at me with an air of mischief. I study their features, thinking. Angelic sure does describe them, with big blue eyes and blonde ringlets and dimples. They stare back at me innocently. Too innocently. I don't trust them.

"This is Ari," I say gruffly, pushing Ari out in front of me. He blinks innocently at Fang, chewing his thumbnail. I have to remember to remind him to stop that – who knows what kind of germs he's picking up.

Ari stays clinging to my legs, and I notice absently he's growing again. Just a few months ago he only reached my knee – now he's mid-thigh. I casually check my watch, and nearly choke on my own spit when I see what time it is. I lean down to whisper the time to Ari, making an excuse to Fang.

"Come on," I tell Ari. "It's time to go make dinner."

As we set off walking home, Ari trotting happily next to me, I can't help but wonder if I would see Fang at that park again**. **

**Thanks! **


	3. Realisation, trust and therapists

**Here's the next chapter.**

**MAX**

Dodge. Kick. Punch. Sweat flies from my drenched hair as it swings to the side, whipping my face. Dodge. Kick. Uppercut. My aching shoulders burn as I swing them to form powerful blows. Dodge. Kick. Slam! I steady the swinging punching bag with my bloodied hands, breathing heavily. Whack! That's for you, Jeb. Smack! That's for mom, for being so engrossed in her horrible drugs. Crack! This one's for me. I'm sorry I can't take care of you well enough, Ari.

I shake my numb hands out, staring confusedly at one. The bone's sticking out at a funny angle, and I can see the white of bone with blood pouring freely from the wound. Whoops. I guess I was hitting the bag a little too hard. I blink dazedly and wrap it with a towel. I grab my bag and shut out the lights of the gym as I leave.

As I enter the dirty streets, I glance warily around. It's quite dangerous in the evening in this part of town, which I unfortunately live in. It's not like I can afford anything more expensive than a small, three-room apartment flat in a run-down building. The only good thing about it is it's a three minute walk to the gym, and basically next to the park. Me and Ari visit it every day. We both love the swings – it's almost as if, flying above everybody with the wind in our hair, all our worries vanish. Ari has far too many worries for a five-year-old. He shouldn't even know what the rent is.

As I'm lost in my thoughts, I don't notice I'm at the park. I look at the setting sun. It's so pretty, I think. I stumble to the swing and sit down. I'm beginning to feel light-headed… maybe I lost too much blood. I stare down at my hand – the rag wrapping it is soaked in blood. My eyes unfocus, and slip off the swing to kneel in the sand. I see a drop of red blood in the dirt right next to my face, and then I'm lying down, spiralling into unconsciousness, and my last blurred thought is

Who's going to make dinner for Ari now?

**FANG**

"Fang!" Angel screams happily. "Fang! Put me down!" I laugh and swing her upside down, careful not to drop her. "Ahhhhhh!" Angel laughs. I grin at her shiny, bouncy curls brushing the ground, and flip her up into my arms. She throws her arms around me and plants a sticky kiss on my cheek.

"Can we go to the park again? Pretty please?" she pouts, using puppy dog eyes. She knows I'm a sucker for puppy dog eyes.

"Fine." I sigh. "But we can't stay for long – we need to be home by six."

"Okey dokey! Thank you so much Fangy!" Angel chirps and leaps out of my arms to grab my hand and skip next to me as I walk, two skips from her tiny legs making up for one of my long strides.

A few minutes later, we get to the park, and my eyes widen at what I see. It's Max, lying unconscious in the sand, blood staining the ground next to her. Angel shrieks a high-pitched buzz at the top of my hearing range. I hear it distantly, like I'm underwater. I rush towards Max, falling to my knees beside her, and search frantically for the source of the blood. I finally see it – her hand is wrapped in a towel stained in her own blood, and as I unwrap it, I see a glimpse of white bone puncturing through the knuckle of her hand, bathed in blood red. I quickly cover Angel's eyes, and smother the feeling of my rolling stomach. I slap Max repeatedly on the cheek until she cracks one eye open.

"Fang?" she croaks.

"Yeah," I reply. "You hurt your hand, and it's pretty bad. I think we'll have to take you to hospital." Her eyes widen.

"No!" she gasps frantically. "Not the… hospital. Call – Iggy…" a light sheen of sweat covers her face, and it takes effort for her to form words, eyes fluttering rapidly. I slap her cheek gently.

"Hey, stay with me, okay?"

"O-okay." She stutters, fumbling in her pocket with her good hand to bring out an old-fashioned mobile phone.

"Iggy..." she mutters breathlessly. "He'll know what to do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I watch stoically as Iggy leans into Max, whispering a conversation that I can only catch a few words of.

"Saved me…" "Trust…" "Never…" "What about-"

I return their frequent glances with an open gaze, showing I'm not hiding anything. Finally, Iggy gets up and heads toward me. He stands across from me, me sitting awkwardly on a falling-apart wooden chair that groans in complaint every time I shift slightly, in his dirty apartment in a bad part of town. Max lies on the couch opposite us, hand bandaged and eyes closed. Iggy crouches on the ground in front of my chair, and even though my chair is quite short, I'm impressed when he almost reaches my height. That is one tall man.

His light blue eyes glint darkly – eyes that have seen too much. Eyes that search my own for a hint of dishonesty. He's determining if I'm a threat.

"Can I trust you?" He asks bluntly, lips tight. I think about it, before nodding. Iggy holds my eyes for a long time, before nodding once and letting out a long sigh. Suddenly he seems very old, and tired.

"Watch out for Max, alright?" He says, watching Max sadly. "She doesn't always look after herself that well."

**xxxx A WEEK LATER xxxx**

I'm thinking about Max again. Daydreaming in class, on the bus, at night and with my friends. There's something different about her. And even though she seems happy enough most of the time, I can't miss that sad, tired and aged look constantly in her eyes. Those creamy, warm brown eyes…

"Mr Martinez! Please refrain from daydreaming in my class." I snap back into focus at Mrs Heart's sharp voice, mumble an apology and go back to thinking about Max. I haven't properly talked to her since she broke her hand, but I've seen her around school. She doesn't seem to here though, today.

BRIIING!

I gather my things and get ready for next period, only to be stopped by Mrs Heart's call.

"Mr Martinez, may I please have a word with you?" It wasn't a request. "You are slacking off in your work. You daydream constantly in class, and your work is sloppy, and lazy. Frankly, I'm disappointed." I swallow thickly. Dr M wouldn't like it if I got into detention at all. "But, I'm letting you off with a warning. Make sure you talk to that girl… Maximum Ride. Get her to open up to you. God knows she needs someone to talk to." Mrs Heart winks at me and I blink at her in surprise. She slaps me on the back and laughs at my stunned expression.

"Move along, Mr Martinez. Unless you want that detention?"

**MAX**

"Maximum Ride, go immediately to the principals office!" The red-faced teacher sends me away, fuming. I scowl. I'm not in the best mood – note the sarcasm – and I had a particularly nasty fight last night and missed out on sleep. The teacher interrupted my nap.

Needless to say, the principal is not impressed to see me.

"Maximum…" she sighs wearily. "What did you do this time?" I shrug noncommittally, staring at a stain on the floor.

"Talking back, sleeping in class." I mutter. She rolls her eyes. This is the fifth time I've seen her in two weeks.

"Maximum, I am seriously considering calling your parents about your behaviour."

"Please don't," I say pleadingly to Mrs Janssen. Mom probably couldn't even hear the phone ringing, but if someone saw her… I would get put into foster care and I would probably never see Ari again. Mrs Janssen sighs again.

"Okay, Maximum. Your appointment with the therapist is at three every Wednesday. You are dismissed."

_…What?_

**I hope you like it. I was wondering… should I make it Niggy or Eggy? Review, please!**

**NAMMAN**


	4. Fake smiles, the tunnel and illegal fun

**Hi. I haven't updated in a while. Sorry about that. Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy. **

I always visit him on Thursdays. Sam's most sober then - I think it's because I told him last year that my favourite day of the week is a Thursday. Something about the way the letters go together is almost… poetic. I'm surprised he still remembers.

Today didn't go well. he was more drunk then usual… and he slapped me. Of course, it was just the alcohol, and he cried afterwards, and begged forgiveness, which I gave… but there's something haunting (not in a good way) when you see your boyfriend's eyes give a dangerous glint as his hands rear up to serve the punishing blow. But I don't blame him. It was the alcohol. But I just wish sometimes… I wish what I was good enough to show him that you don't have to drink your sorrows away. You don't have to live your life wasting away in a crappy little apartment in the worst part of town.

He doesn't love me the way I love him - otherwise he would've stopped drinking. For me.

But I love him even more for trying.

As I'm walking I see I'm near the park next to my house. don't want to go in my house, face the incoherent high mother and confused little face asking me,

"Why, Maxie? Why does Mamma always talk like that? Is she sick? Where's Daddy? The kids in class made fun of me today, Maxie. Why? Why do you have to go away at night time? Why do you always have bruises? Why can't we live in a big house, like the other kids in my class? Why are you so dirty? Why does Dylan go away all the time? Why, Maxie, why?" I growl in frustration and cradle my head in my hands. It's all too much.

I crouch down near the entrance to the small grey tunnel in the playground, remembering the days I would just sit in there. Just sit, and think.

I crawl into the tunnel entrance, nearly banging my head against the roof. I manoeuvre myself onto the side of the damp concrete wall and lean my head against the cool cement. The inside of the tunnel is basically the same, with mouldy patches and snubbed out cigarettes and graffiti covered walls, but I've grown. I don't remember being able to touch the end of the tunnel with my feet before.

I sigh and close my eyes, just to sit and listen to the wind. To enjoy the peace of the moment.

After a while somebody enters the tunnel, and settles themselves beside me. I think for a little while longer, then exit my little world of solitude. My brown eyes meet Iggy's pale blue ones.

"You still come here, huh?" I shrug.

"You remember?" I ask. He nods.

"Yeah. You said it was a place it just sit and think." We sit in silence for a while. Suddenly, Iggy's head snaps up and he grins devilishly.

"Remember when we used to go in the city and have fun?" I roll my eyes. Almost all of the fun we had was illegal. He continues. "We'll, I think we should do it again. Just relax… you really need a holiday. Have you seen your face lately?" I glare at him.

"What about Ari?" He chuckles knowingly.

"Max, Max, Max… I've got it all sorted out. Ari will be safe, you'll have fun, I'll have fun, and we'll come back in the morning." he spreads his hands out like a magician. I sigh.

"Ok," I relent.

"Brilliant!" He exclaims, clapping his hands. "Meet me here at seven thirty, Saturday, Ari will be fine." he grins again and I groan. What have I gotten myself into?

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD DDDDD

"Maximum Ride?" The pretty red headed woman calls me up from the waiting room with a sugary smile. "My name's Dr Dwyer, and I'll be your… help for the time being." I grunt as a response. She nods kindly, like she expected it, and leads me to her office where we can 'pursue more private matters'. Yeah right.

So this is what having a therapist is like.

"Now, honey, we're going to start with some simple questions, okay?" she asks once she sits me down in her office in a slightly uncomfortable chair a with 'soothing' music in the background to 'set the tone'. Sure. I don't say anything. "Now… do you have any favourite hobbies you like to do?" She asks these things gently, like I'm going to explode any moment.

"Do emo things, listen to emo music, write emo poems- basically anything to do with emoness." I reply, faking an earnest expression. She frowns, and takes a calming breath.

"Sweetie, I think we need to be honest here… now, truthfully, what do you like doing in your spare time?" I almost laugh. Almost.

"Really?" I ask, faking being worried. "You won't tell anyone?" I see Dr Dwyer leaning forward in her chair eagerly, clipboard ready, and suppress a smile.

"I like to dress up my barbie dolls," I say in a stage-whisper, before dropping the act and bursting into wild fits of laughter. I see Dr Dwyer sigh, frustrated, leaning back and tugging on her hair disappointedly. I think she can tell I won't be an easy patient.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I try to pretend nothing's wrong that night with Ari, sitting in front of the old fashioned TV with a staticky little kids show playing. But the therapist was so fake… she didn't care about me. She was just pretending.

"Maxie, what's wrong?" Ari's little face is stubborn, and I can't keep this from him forever.

"You know when people are crazy, they go to people to help them be not crazy?" I ask gently. He nods, confusion creeping into his green eyes. "Well, I went to see one of those people today." He frowns.

"You're not crazy, Maxie!" I nod.

"No," I agree. "I'm not. But the principal thinks so, and she's forcing me to go." Ari nods, surprisingly understanding for a boy his age. But then again, he never has been the most normal. "She's just so fake." I mutter, more to myself then him, but he crawls over and wraps his skinny arms around me. I sigh, and bury my face in his shaggy hair. He's better then any therapist ever will be.

**Thanks for the reviews. Sorry it's short. I've decided on Niggy for now. Sorry Eggy lovers. Now… care to help me make up some OC's for the story? It would be appreciated. And I would update sooner. Anyway… review please! **


	5. Kidnappers, Russians and walks at night

**Hi. I'm going to be updating more cause of school holidays. Thanks for the reviews. **

**_MAX_**

"Maximum Freaking Ride." My drunk, high mother slurs as soon as I get home from school.

"Yes, mom." I sigh tiredly. I really just want to sleep. But I have a fight up next, so no bed for me tonight. I'll just sleep tomorrow in class.

"Maximum Freaking Ride." Mom repeats. Well, she doesn't exactly say 'freaking' but you know what I mean. "You're a failure. Why did I even have you? You're freaking stupid. An idiot." This is one of the times mom's sober enough to curse me. And that's what she does, spitting out hateful insults like there's no tomorrow.

"Your father would've been ashamed of you, Maximum. Freaking ashamed." Now that one stung. It wasn't my fault I had to street fight for money, even though Dad wouldn't have approved if he were here. Although, if he were here, I wouldn't have to. I don't reply, as usual, and go to Ari's room to find him. I see him squatting near the edge of his tiny bed, squinting at something underneath and using a long stick to poke around under the bed.

I come into the room and crouch next to him.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Ari looks up at my entrance, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Zack said that there were monsters underneath the bed and they kidnapped you at night. I was trying to find it to put it outside so it couldn't hurt you." He said seriously. I smile, feeling tears well up into the backs of my eyes. He's my little trooper.

"You're the man of the house, aren't you?" I say softly, pulling him in for a hug. "Don't worry." I whisper. "I won't let the monsters kidnap us."

I ruffle his hair affectionately and pull back.

"Now, who wants to go to Uncle Iggy's house?"

**XXXXXX AT IGGY'S HOUSE XXXXXXXX**

"Look after yourself, alright? I hear they've had some pretty brutal fighters from Russia arrive yesterday," I nod sadly and manage a smile at Iggy.

"Don't worry about me," I say, trying to sound lighthearted. "Look after Ari. Make sure he goes to bed at nine." Iggy rolls his eyes and ushers me out.

"Yeah, yeah. Go on - you're going to be late, _Mom_."

"And don't play any video games rated over PG13!" I yell over my shoulder, laughing as the door slams shut behind me. Then I sober up. Time to get into my beat-the-crap-out-of-everyone mode.

**XXXXX AFTER MAX'S FIGHT XXXXXXX**

"And the winner, after a long and tiring fight- Maximum Ride!" I'm panting as the announcer grabs my fist and raises it above my head. I pull away irritably, and go off to find my water bottle and assess my injuries. That was one long, hard fight- and Iggy was right. He was Russian, for sure. He was huge. I only just managed to get one lucky shot in at the end- if we had gone on any longer, he would have surely won.

In the bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror. Two black eyes, split lip and bruised jaw. I also sprained my wrist- not helping with my previous hand injury- and bruised ribs. Somehow, the Russian managed to bite my leg. I study the two red bite marks and almost laugh. This has got to be the most absurd injury ever.

I take a long drink from my water bottle, and wipe my face off with a towel. Then I set off towards home.

I'm anxious to get back to the apartment - I worry whenever I leave my mom home alone. Someone could see her, or she could do something stupid like try to commit suicide or set the house on fire. First, though, I have to pick up Ari. It's about a ten minute walk to Iggy's, then a five minute walk to my apartment. It's around one am now- Ari's probably asleep, so I'll have to carry him. I hope my injuries can take it.

I pull my dark hoodie over my head and flip the hood up.

Just in case.

Suddenly, I hear a shout.

"Heey!" I turn around instinctively and curse myself as soon as I do. I quickly turn around again. Just keep walking. I hear footsteps slapping against the floor- uneven and probably drunk footsteps- behind me and quicken my pace slightly. Someone clumsily grabs my arm and I furiously try to shake them off. I turn to see pale, unfocused turquoise eyes. He's probably high too.

"Let go!" I hiss, trying to free my arm.

"You're… pretty…" The stranger slurs, stale breath washing over my face. I try to shove him off again, but the drunken grip is surprisingly strong.

Suddenly, the hand on my shoulder vanishes.

"She said, let go." A deathly calm voice orders - I know that voice. The drunk man, now whimpering pathetically, is thrown into the bushes beside the sidewalk. I turn to face my saviour, knowing who's dark gaze and half smirk will await me.

Fang.

"What happened," he murmurs, trying to tilt my head up to see it in the glow of the street lamp. I stubbornly refuse to meet his gaze and look down.

"What do you think." It's meant to come out sarcastic and bitter, but I can't seem to find the energy. Instead it comes out weary and old-sounding. I ignore Fang's smouldering look and tug my chin out of his gentle grip, ignoring the unnatural warmth in his fingertips and turn away, reclaiming my dignity and checking the time worriedly. I should be at Iggy's by now.

I hear Fang's footfalls quicken to catch up to me.

"Where are you going?" Fang's hands are stuffed into his jacket pockets and his breath comes out in puffs of mist.

"Iggy's." I mutter, staring at the ground. I see Fang's worried frown at the edge of my vision.

"I'll walk you." He says. It's not a question. I don't bother to nod, because he'll come anyway.

"What are you doing at Iggy's?" Fang tries to make conversation. I just want to sleep, and can't be bothered making idle conversation with anybody.

"Ari," I grunt, hinting for him to drop it. Apparently, Fang can't take a hint very well, because he nods in understanding, before going and asking another question. One I'd like to answer even less.

"So, what's a girl like you doing out in these parts of town?" He asks, a playful smile on his lips, but I can see the calculating look in his eyes.

"I don't know," I reply. "What's a rich guy like you doing in the poor parts?" He shrugs. _That's what I thought_.

The rest if our walk is in silence.

**Thanks! Sorry it's short. Review please! **


	6. Abandoned buildings, fire and sisters

**Hey guys! So, I planned to update sooner... But you know. I've been busy. :P I know, I know, that's what everyone says. But still. Hope you enjoy! **

**MAX**

"Iggy!" I hiss furiously, pulling my hair anxiously. He has a can of something - I think that's gasoline - and that look he always has when we're going to do something really, really stupid. He gives me a cheeky, one-sided grin.

"Don't you worry," He says confidently. "This is gonna be awesome." I roll my eyes. I should have never agreed to this. I've probably already had enough excitement in my life to last me ten years, based on what I used to do with Iggy. I don't need any more.

Ok... So Iggy may have a slight pyro issue. And maybe we set a couple abandoned buildings on fire and robbed a couple stores and blew up a couple cars and graffitied a couple buildings. And egged my neighbours house. And we may have been admitted into the juvenile delinquent centre a couple of times... but that was only when we got caught.

So maybe I'm crazy for agreeing to this.

I need to take care of Ari - what am I thinking? I don't even know where he is right now. What kind of older sister am I?

"Iggy," I say. "I need to get out. We can't do this. I need to go back to Ari." He frowns at me.

"Come on, Max. Lighten up. Trust me - Ari's in good hands. Enjoy yourself, just this once. Then you can go back to being a boring, _normal_, teenage girl with nothing to do." I roll my eyes again, almost laughing. We both know how much that isn't true.

"What is it then? Are you scared? Are you chicken?" I grit my teeth. He's not getting me.

"No." I growl.

"Well, okay then. If you're not good for this then I'll go get a man because obviously no girl is fit for the job." He sneers. I finally snap. He can't get away with his sexist comments. I have to prove women can do things too.

Iggy always knows my weak points.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

"Come on!" Iggy whispers across the street. I quickly drop the match and sprint across the road, not bothering to watch for cars. In this abandoned part of town, nobody comes around on purpose. As I reach Iggy at the other side, I watch, satisfied, as the building goes up in flames. We sprayed it with the gasoline, first, (don't ask me where Iggy got it) and I got the honours of lighting it up. There's just something so fulfilling about watching the growing tendrils of orangey flame envelope the bricks, and reduce the old rotting house to a pile of ashes.

We made sure there were no trees around, so it wouldn't start a wildfire. The building was old, anyway - we basically helped the community. And it was only a tiny bit illegal.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSS

We were so engrossed in the fiery building we didn't even notice the scared civilian on the phone. We didn't notice the numbers, that same 911 called so many times. We didn't notice until it was too late - the wailing of the police cars, and fire trucks, and the familiar click of handcuffs around our wrists.

**FANG**

I know I sound like a creeper, showing up everywhere Max goes. Or, maybe it's her showing up where I go. Anyway. I feel like I should explain.

I had a... sister, before I got into foster care.

She died.

It was my fault.

She looked exactly like Max. I know, it's not really a good reason to follow her and be extremely close to a stalker. But with Max... I get this feeling.

I'm a very, very, very curious person naturally. But put me in a room with a pretty, sad, beaten-up girl who looks exactly like my dead sister and may or may not street fight? Then my senses will practically explode.

And I'm not stopping until I find out about her.

**Ok, so I tried to answer your questions and requests. I still can't seem to make them longer, sorry, but I'll try. So, Max and Iggy got arrested! Did you expect that? And sorry for the cliffhanger. I couldn't help myself. **

**Review please! **

**Spokensilenc3 (as you can probably tell, I changed my name. I used to be NAMMAN22) **


	7. Jail, Mr Chu and phone calls

**Hey guys! Thanks for those of you who did review... Although I'm not that impressed. Two reviews? *tsk, tsk* Anyway. Hope you enjoy!**

**MAX**

"What you in for?" I look up; a tattooed, muscled, redhead woman is staring intensely at me.

"Arson." The woman snorts, and I notice a group of other women in the corner. They're skinny and their gaunt faces are cruel. They laugh when I say that, reminding me oddly of a pack of hyenas.

"Arson?" One chuckles. "That's nothing. Barb here got in for murder." They point to another cell, closest to the office where guards stay. A couple escorted me in this cell about twenty minutes ago, and they took Iggy to another cell. In the boy's section, I think.

I shrug.

"You can kill people with fire, you know." I say innocently. "Real bad burns, hurts like hell." The tattooed woman eyes me warily.

"Is that a threat?" I raise my arms mockingly.

"I don't know. Are you saying arson isn't that bad? Cause I can do much worse, if you'd prefer." The woman frowns.

"I think that's a threat." She says decisively. I roll my eyes.

"No," I say. "It's a fact."

What I'm doing is trying to tell the women not to mess with me - she looks quite strong, and while I would probably win if we fought, I wouldn't get away with no injuries. I can't risk that- I have a fight in a week, and I'm guessing it's another Russian. I need to be prepared - the rent is due in two weeks time. So in the meantime, I'll just wait it out. And try to intimidate the woman into thinking if she takes on me in a fight, she's going down. Even if its not necessarily true.

The woman processes this.

"What's your name?" A calculating looks crosses her face.

"Maximum Ride." I reply. She hums thoughtfully. Then she grins, triumphant.

"I know who you are!" She says. I purse my lips. I hope whatever she has heard about me is good. "You're a street fighter! My little sister street fights. You're her idol!" The woman's once mean face breaks into a grin. "She'll be so jealous when I say I've met you." The hyenas in the corner titter disapprovingly. They were expecting a fight. Then, I expect, they would finish off the remains of the loser before the guards could do anything.

I resist the urge to smirk at them and instead grin knowingly at the tattooed woman.

"So, what's your name?" She sticks out her meaty hand.

"Lissa Red, at your service." I grab her hand and we pump fists. "My little sister's name is Brigid Red... You might have heard of her?" I haven't, but Lissa's face is hopeful.

"Oh, sure... She's a great fighter. You share the same hair." She beams, and I mentally pat myself on the back.

"Oh, she'll be so happy when I tell her you said that!" She gushes. I resist the urge to laugh at this once menacing woman and smirk.

"Glad to know I have some fans," I say. Lissa nods enthusiastically, but I never get to hear what she says, because at that moment a guard walks in.

"Come." He says emotionlessly, grabbing my arm. Ok then. Outside, two guards stand- a bulky woman with a shaved head, and a tall, lanky man. They escort me to the office and I see Iggy sitting inside, talking to a Asian man.

"Come in, come in." The man says in a heavy Asian accent. I read his name tag- Robert Chu. "You have been sent here for arson, correct?" -Iggy and I both nod- "And you apparently have someone you need to call, yes?" Iggy nods, but I narrow my eyes in confusion. Iggy didn't tell me this. "Well, I will allow you exactly four minutes on the phone- a phone that is impossible to track, mind you- and we will listen to every word you say. Are we clear?" I resist the urge to chirp 'Clear as pea soup!' like the last time I was in prison and nod as solemnly as I can.

"Good." Chu motions to one of the guards - the woman with the shaved head- and she brings out a phone. He hands it to Iggy. I watch as Iggy dials the numbers, trying to make out who he's calling. It's not his mom- she has been on him ever since he started hanging out with me, saying I was a 'bad influence'. Please.

"Hey Fang." I frown. What's he doing calling Fang? "Yeah, we sort of got arrested. Can you look after Ari while we're here? Yeah, thanks. Yeah." I watch Iggy's conversation and clench my hands into fists. We hardly even know Fang! How is Iggy supposed to think I would ever be ok with this?

"Yep. Bye." I watch stoically as Iggy clicks the phone back. At least someone's looking after Ari. How did Iggy even talk me into this? It's the most stupid thing I've done in a while.

"Okay then." I turn my attention back to Chu as he clasps his hands. "Now that's done, you can go back to your comfy little cells, alright?" He asks in a baby tone. This man is a serious jerk.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSXx THE NEXT DAY XxSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Well kiddie, it looks like your lucky day. Someone's bailed you out, strangely enough." The tall, lanky guard says sarcastically. I roll my eyes at his attempt to offend me. I'm just surprised anyone I know bailed me out. Sam's too drunk, Iggy's mom is too strict... My moms out of the question.

"Who?" I ask. The man scratches his head.

"Someone... I think they're name was... Um... Aha! That's it. Someone by the name of Samantha Heart? Yeah, I think that was it. Who's last name is heart? I mean seriously..." I narrow my eyes as the man rambles on. Heart? Heart... Oh my gosh! Mrs Heart bailed me out of jail!

"Did she bail Iggy out too?" I ask the guard urgently. He chuckles.

"Don't you worry, she bailed your little boyfriend out too." I don't bother to correct him, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Okay when do we blow this joint?"

**11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 111111111111111111111**

Eventually, the court let us go. We hadn't hurt anyone, and we were still technically minors.

I sit with Fang the next day, after picking up Ari. We watch him play on the swings at the playground next to my house.

"He's a really good kid." I look at Fang for a while, before answering.

"Yeah." I say. "He is."

We are silent for a while, before I gather the courage to speak.

"So," I start. "You looked after Ari." He looks at me questioningly. I continue. "You told Mrs Heart we were in jail and got her to bail us out." I figured this out after Mrs Heart told me 'my little friend was a great help'. I swallow thickly and go on. "You saved me from a drunk crazy man." He nods cautiously. "Well," I say. "I sure do owe you a lot." He shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it." I start to protest, but Fang continues, insistent. "Someday, I'm sure you'll find a way to repay me." I start to smile, despite my efforts to remain straight-faced. He gives a one-sided grin.

"And I can't wait for the day you do."

**Ok, horrible ending. At least I tried! Thanks for the reviews. And for those of you who are confused, Brigid Red is not the same person as Dr Dwyer, Max's therapist. I don't know much about jail, so sorry if I'm wrong. Review please!**

**Spokensilenc3**

**PS. Thanks Miss-Fallen-Talent. :D**


	8. Food, hacking and running away

**:) Hi. Hope you like, thanks for reviews. **

**MAX**

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSS**

** XxxxxxxxxxxxSATURDAYxxxxxxxxxxxX**

"Come on, Maxie!" Iggy whines from underneath me. I smirk triumphantly and roll my eyes, not loosening my hold on Iggy's squirming body.

"Stop sulking," I order. From behind me, Ari giggles and sticks his tongue out at Iggy. He thinks I don't see, but I do and hide a smile at his motion. Iggy pouts.

"Awww," He huffs. I laugh at his tendency to act like a three year old. Lately, I've been teaching him some of my fighting moves and earlier, he had told me that he had been polishing up his 'super ninja awesome moves' and was ready to fight 'The Master' (AKA me). I ended the fight quickly out of pity.

"Oh, don't worry." I say, ruffling his hair. "It's not your fault you're unbearably skinny and wimpy and suck at fighting." I shrug nonchalantly, and stand up.

He yells in mock anger, swatting my hand away from his head. Suddenly, his eyes go to the other side of the street.

"Woah," He breathes, giving a low whistle and also standing up. "Who is she?" I look at the girl that is Iggy's interest for the day, and laugh as I recognise her. Iggy doesn't stand a chance.

"It's Nudge, Fang's little sister. She's like thirteen. I met her when I went over to Fang's house to pick up Ari. Don't hit on her." Iggy ignores me, tilting his head appreciatively.

"Nudge, eh?" He takes a breath, before shouting at the top of his lungs.

"_HEY, NUDGE_!" I roll my eyes as she cautiously walks over to my front yard, muttering under my breath.

"Here it goes again." I feel a tug on my jeans.

"Maxie?" I look down at Ari, his little face moulded into a frown.

"What's up, little man?" I ask.

"I'm hungry." He says sadly. My smile drops.

"Oh," I say, at loss for what to do. I lost my last fight -a Russian again- and so we're a little short on money. "Ok, that's fine. Uh," Ari tilts his head, a concerned look coming into his eyes. "Just wait here a second, ok, honey? I'll be right back." He nods trustingly and I feel a tug in my heart.

Once I'm in the house, I quickly rifle through the cupboards, hoping the food fairies have come or _someone_. Finally, I sigh and find my emergency pack, taking out some of the biscuits and a chocolate bar. I bring them out to Ari, and give them to him.

"Here you go, buddy." I say, handing them to him. He immediately rips open the package and starts stuffing the chocolate into his mouth, and I chuckle softy.

"Just like Iggy," I murmur. I turn round to see Iggy is actually making conversation with Nudge, probably flirting horribly. But when I go over, I'm surprised to hear what Nudge is talking about.

"Oh, it's easy. You just find the key code, then hack into the computers database using a memory stick, and-"

"Please don't tell me you're teaching him how to hack!" I groan, interrupting her mid-rant.

"Well-" Nudge starts, but Iggy cuts her off.

"Uh, Max? Is that your emergency food?" My smile tightens as he points in Ari's direction. He shouldn't talk about it so freely in front of a practical stranger. But he does, plodding on relentlessly. "Because you know you can always borrow some money, or something-" I notice Nudge warily glancing between us, and grab his arm angrily.

"I don't need any favours, alright?" I hiss dangerously, my face close to Iggy's. "Just shut up." I let go abruptly and blow out a deep breath. Then I mutter, "Look after Ari, ok?" Then I leave. Iggy and Ari are used to this, me just taking off and leaving for days at a time, but Nudge has no clue what's going on and she glances back at me worriedly as I go.

Sometimes I just need to get away, and this is the best way. Clean, and I do come back. Always.

**IGGY** (**Oohhh**!)

"She can't keep doing that," I say, frustrated. I'm pacing back and forth in Fang's room, blowing off some steam. I dropped Ari off in Nudge's room- she seemed perfectly fine looking after him. "She can't just take off and expect me not to worry." Lately I've been finding myself going to Fang for advice with Max. (**A/N remember, this isn't Figgy, people**) I need someone to talk to, and it's not like I'm gonna go to some shrink.

"Well, maybe she just needs some time." Fang suggests.

"No, man!" I say agitatedly. "It's not healthy. She just runs off, leaves everything behind. I don't even know where she goes." Fang sighs.

"I don't know, man. I don't know."

**MAX**** - TWO DAYS LATER**

It's been two days. I think I should go back now.

I don't want to go back, to the noise and the people and Ari. I love him, but at the same time I hate him. I hate having to look after him, to tend to his every single need. Ari tries his best, I know, and Iggy helps as much as I let him, but it's just a lot to take on.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if it were only me.

Then I hate myself for it.

**Ok, so this chapter was a little weird, and Max goes to the forest, ok? Review please! And a special thanks to Miss-Fallen-Talent. :) **

**Spokensilenc3**


	9. Falling slowly, music and frogs

**Hey guys. Thanks for the reviews. Just because I think I messed up the ages a little... **

**Max, Iggy and Fang are sixteen. Dylan's nineteen, and Sam's seventeen. Ari's just turned five, Nudge is thirteen, Gazzy and Angel are eleven (they're small for eleven), and Ella and JJ are sixteen too. Teehee, I just realised Fang only has friends who are girls except for Iggy. Maybe I'll do something about that... You never know. Anyway. Hope you like. **

**_MAX_**

I get home at around midnight. I'm scratched and bruised from my various activities in the woods, and exhausted. I slowly trudge to the top of the stairs in the beaten down apartment building, as the elevators stopped working long ago. When I unlock the door, I walk past Mom's motionless silhouette slumped in one room, and blink slowly. I feel faint, but push on, digging my nails into my closed fist and forcing myself to step past her sleeping figure.

I reach my room, shared with Ari, and can't find the energy to be surprised when I see a hunched figure sitting on my bed. It sits up, and I know who it is. He's always there for me.

"I was so worried." His voice is scratchy and I stare emotionlessly at him. My eyes are blurred for no reason and I feel like there are nails being driven into my head with each second. "Ari was asking for you." I just can't deal with it now, I want to tell him. Just leave me alone. But my tongue feels like sandpaper and I can't seem to open my mouth.

"Max." His voice is suddenly harsh, and I feel his hand on my shoulder. Squeezing. "You can't keep doing this." My eyes feel heavy, and I know he's waiting for a reply. One that I can't give. He runs his hand through his strawberry blonde hair, and I know he's disappointed. I don't want to disappoint him.

My knees buckle, and I know I'm about to fall.

"I try so hard," I manage to choke out before collapsing on the floor beside his feet. He's wearing converses, I note numbly, dirty and torn from wear. He crouches beside my slumped form.

"I know," Iggy whispers. "I know, Max."

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

My dad used to love music. If it has a beat, he always said, then it's worth listening to. And he would do that. He loved all music, from The Beatles to Madonna and Stix. I remember how he used to chuckle and ruffle my hair, how his hand seemed so large and rough and warm. How when I snuggled up against his hard chest, I could hear his comforting heartbeat.

People always said we looked alike, with his short-cut brown hair, and chocolate eyes. He always had a loud, warm laugh that reverberated through the world, and a large smile on his face. I did too, when he was there.

We were always best friends, me and my dad. My mom would always laugh at us and say we were inseparable, until he died. Then she didn't say anything.

I remember how he used to listen to music, mouthing the words along. He had a voice like velvet, but he never sang along to songs. I always asked why, but he just laughed at me and told me to listen to the music.

My mom was nice, before he died. She had a warm smile, and sparkling green eyes. She would always hug me around the shoulders, and chuckle and say,

"You're beautiful, honey."

I miss her. When dad died, so did my mom. Now all that's left is a lifeless shell, hollowed out and miserable.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXX

I woke to murmuring. The soft kind that isn't meant to wake the sleeping, but does anyway. The kind used to share secrets.

"I don't think it's true."

"He said she ate a frog, when she was gone."

"Don't listen to what Ryan says."

"She looks pretty normal."

"Shhh! She's moving."

I slowly sit up, glancing around. I see the two twins from the park- what were their names? Angel and Gazzy?- and they quiet down immediately when I look at them.

"Where am I," I croak, my throat sore and scratchy.

"Our house," The girl says cheerily. I rub my forehead, where a pounding headache lies, and swallow thickly.

"Where's Ari?" I ask worriedly. Angel giggles.

"Fang's looking after him." I let out a breath of relief.

"Do you guys have any water?"

"Sure." Angel chirps. The boy, Gazzy, is still staring at me. Angel nudges him, and whispers harshly.

"Stop staring. It's rude." He snaps out of his trance, and gazes at me curiously.

"Is it true you ate a frog?"

**Ok, I have to finish now. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up soon. Review please! And your opinion- should I make a new character? I was thinking of it... possibly one of the girl's boyfriend and friend to Fang and Iggy. I just feel like they need more boys. Maybe I'll call them Ratchet. :) **

**Spokensilenc3**


	10. Walls, growing smiles and trust

**Hi. I haven't updated in a while. Sorry. **

**FANG**

She is sitting near the window, and I know she feels my steady gaze. She isn't one to miss those types of things.

Even though I think I know the surface of Max, I know she's got so many secrets buried underneath her calm mask. It frustrates me, that she's somehow always got an un breakable wall separating her from everybody else- she can observe, silently, but no one can touch her or do her any harm. Nobody can love her, either.

I know that Iggy and Ari are very close her, but she still hides things from them. Iggy asked Max if she was hurt in any way- she said no. I was the only one who noticed the various scratches on her arms, and the ugly purple bruise on her shoulder.

I pick up the first-aid kit and walk over to her. She's been sitting that way since early yesterday, when she woke up. Just staring at the sky. I sit next to her, but don't speak. I pause for a moment, looking out the window too. I wonder if she sees anything special. I can't spot anything out of the usual. Ari and Angel are playing out in the yard, laughing and tickling each other. I think Max feels lost without having to look after Ari. She doesn't know what to do anymore.

None of us speak for a while. Then, Max finally looks at me. She half-turns, and notices my first-aid kit. She groans in annoyance. I roll my eyes, neither of us talking yet, and pull out some antiseptic. She reluctantly holds out her arm and I start to dab the paste onto the tiny scratches on her tanned skin. Skin that I can't help but noticed has been scarred before.

My jaw clenches as I watch Max wince. I try talking to distract her from what I'm doing.

"You know he doesn't need you every second," I blurt out, gesturing to Ari.

She turns towards me, and I can see the confusion and pain in her eyes. I've just hurt her even more. I didn't mean to say that.

"Look, it came out wrong." I start, trying desperately to back-track. She watches me expressionlessly. "I didn't mean it like that, you know. I was just saying, if you need anything, like for us to babysit him or something, we're here. You don't have to work so hard to meet his every need- you can hand over the responsibility once in a while. Your not a mom yet, Max." I say softly, studying her sharp face. The way her face closed when I told her she wasn't a mother.

She purses her lips thoughtfully.

"Thanks." She finally says, still stony, and I can tell she doesn't mean it. I mentally slap myself- I just scared her off even more.

I stand, knowing this conversation's over.

"Sorry," I say, but I can tell it won't help. Max isn't one to easily forgive and forget.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD DDDD

**MAX**

I know he was just trying to help.

I know he didn't mean it that way.

But it still hurt.

I think about what he said- about me not being a mom yet. Yeah, well if I did have a mom who actually worked, it would help a lot.

I sigh tiredly. Maybe I should listen to what Fang says- I can't be a fighter, a mom, a student and take care of myself all at the same time. Maybe I should let Nudge take care of Ari more often- it can't hurt. And I could give myself a holiday.

Fang might just be right. A small smile begins to form on my lips. I stand. It's time to go and apologise to Fang, and ask if he could take care of Ari for a while.

I think I'm slowly growing to trust him more.

The growing smile disappears from my lips, and I feel the wariness return instinctively at the mention of trust.

I don't really know if that's a good thing.

**It's really short. I'm really sorry. **


	11. Shopping, dresses and sisterly bonding

**Hiya! I'm in a good mood today. (It's a miracle.) Thanks so much for you guys's support and reviews and help and stuff... Hope you enjoy! And do you like my new cover? Divided by Zero made it- she's awesome!**

I'm in a grocery store. Shocking, I know. But everyone has to eat.. Even Maximum Ride. I look at the lettuce, frowning slightly as I note the price. I mentally add up the total- if I win the fight to-

"Hey there," I spin around quickly, meeting Fang's steady gaze, and calming my racing heart.

"Hi," I reply, trying to mask my surprise, and only half-succeeding. A ghost of a smile appears in his face. I put the lettuce down, deciding that Ari can go without his vegetables for one week, and push my cart along a little to the fruit section. I glance back at Fang expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

"Grocery shopping," Is his first comment, his eyebrows raised. "I'm impressed." I mock-scowl and don't reply, squinting at my crumpled grocery list. After the fight last week, we've been 'practically-friends'.

Fang shrugs.

"So... Wanna go somewhere?" He asks cooly, thumbs in his pockets. I smirk in return, raising an eyebrow and turning over an apple in my hands.

"Where would that be?" I ask, playing along. His lips twitch upwards.

"My friends are forcing me to go to the mall," He says, dark eyes glinting in amusement. "Something about 'wearing something other than black ' and 'getting me out of my cave' and all that. I was wondering if you could come... For the sake of my sanity." I snort, imagining Fang wearing bright colours.

"Sure," I say casually, placing a bag of apples in the cart carefully. "What's in it for me?" He offers me a charming grin.

"You get to spend some quality time with me." Fang says hopefully. I roll my eyes.

"Fine," I sigh, faking annoyance, but I'm secretly glad to have something on my mind than the fight tonight. I'm fighting a man who has never, ever lost... His street name is Fighter. Very original. But honestly, after losing my last fight, it kind of knocked down my confidence. That's what fighting is about- psyching your opponent out so they're less confident, and then punching as hard as you possibly can. I'm worried, though I would never admit that to anyone. Any distraction is welcome- even if it involves shopping.

"Okay then," The smirk never leaves Fang's face. "Meet me at the mall, the food court, one o'clock."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Sometimes I hate myself for having all girls as friends," Fang says miserably. Right now he's wearing a white shirt that Nudge, Ella, JJ and Tess forced him to wear. He looks absolutely ridiculous- his skin tone is much lighter and his eyes are actually brown, instead of their usual mesmerising -ahem- black. I decide I don't really like it and frown, pushing Fang back into the changing room with orders to the girls to leave him alone.

I met his friends at one, when he invited me to the food court. Tess is tall, pale and blonde, with a friendly personality and a tinkling laugh. I imagine Iggy would like her. **(I told you guys this would be a Niggy fanfic... But what's wrong with adding a little competition?)** Ella is short, dark-haired and Hispanic. She is quiet, and a bit of a tomboy. She and Nudge are really good friends, though.

JJ is sarcastic and tough- a bit like me. But she's more girly, pale and lanky, with huge blue eyes. I also learned that JJ stood for Jennifer Joy, which I was advised against calling her unless I wanted a sprained wrist. I agreed, although I doubt any of Fang's friends could lay a finger on me.

After Fang came out of the changing room, in his normal black attire, the girls insisted on making me try on some clothes, where I refused profusely before giving in to the evil power of puppy dog eyes.

So now I stand, in the changing room, feeling naked in a thin, grey dress Nudge forced me to try on.

"Come on!" Nudge yells impatiently from the other side of the curtain. I hesitantly come out, bare in front of all the prying eyes. Fang looks totally shocked, and the girls look a bit disturbed.

"You don't look like you," Tess says slowly. I shiver.

"I don't feel like me," I reply. Nudge frowns.

"Maybe not a dress," she says thoughtfully. She throws a black, soft shirt at me and some grey skinny jeans. "Try these on- they're more your style."

I gratefully change out of the dress, feeling weird with all of the new clothes. I could never afford them. The shirt and jeans look okay, but I can't waste money on useless things I don't need.

I come out of the room, feeling more comfortable than in the dress but still not completely sure of myself. Nudge smiles in satisfaction, shoving my own clothes into my hands.

"Buy them." She orders. I clench my jaw.

"No," I begin, but she cuts me off.

"Max," she says seriously. "You _need_ to buy these clothes. They. Look. Awesome." I sigh.

"_Really_," I protest. "I can't buy these." Nudge puts her hands on her hips, looking annoyed, while Tess and JJ look on curiously. Ella has a strange look on her face, and Fang just looks confused so I take a moment to pity them. They have no clue what's really going on.

"And why can't you buy these clothes?" Nudge asks, starting to tap her foot. I squirm uncomfortably, trying to keep a stony facade.

"Because." I say, with a note of finality in my tone. We stare at each other for a long time, chocolate eyes staring into chocolate eyes. Finally, sensing she's reached a sensitive subject, she drops it, pursing her lips and dropping her hand from where it rests on her hip.

"Come on," She says finally. "It's lunch time."

We file out of the store robotically and start in the direction of the food court, not saying a word. When we get to the pizza restaurant, Nudge, Fang, Tess and JJ step in, but Ella hangs back.

"Could I speak to you for a second?" She asks hesitantly.

"Sure," I reply distractedly, still not recovered fully from the previous incident.

"Well," Ella starts. "I was thinking. About what you said, I mean." I gaze at her curiously.

"What did I say?" I ask.

"Um." Ella seems reluctant to continue. "When you said you couldn't buy the clothes. Well..." She stops for a while, and I think she's not going to continue, but then she blurts it out, all of a sudden.

"You should tell Nudge, if you can't afford the clothes, you know." Her eyes stare back at me sincerely, and the next part is so quiet I don't even think she mean to say it. "I had the same problem."

We're quiet. After a while, I have to know.

"How did you know?" I ask finally. She shuffles her feet, not looking at me.

"It was how you looked, with all the new clothes. Like you had never been shopping before. It was how I felt the first time Nudge took me. The others noticed too... They just didn't know what it meant." I stare at her for a long while.

"So you're not exactly rich either?" I ask carefully. She shakes her head, frowning softly.

"Nah," she says. That's it. And that's fine with me. I wouldn't be that keen to share my life story with someone I just met, either.

Then, after what seems like ages, Ella slowly puts her arms around me, in a hesitant but sisterly hug. At first, I stiffen, but then I carefully place my arms around her back and pat her awkwardly.

We go back to the others after a while of being caught in the bonding embrace, and Fang looks at me questioningly. I shake my head ever so subtly, and he presses his lips together, taking another piece of pizza. I help myself to five pieces, ignoring the bemused looks from all the people passing by.

And in that moment, with oily pizza spilling out of my mouth, surrounded by all my friends and feeling free and wonderful for the first time in ages, I wanted to stay like that forever.

But then reality caught back up and I knew that that would never, ever be the case.

**I think it's a bit longer today... But I won't be able to update for a while. Sorry. And I'm putting some Ella/Max sisterly stuff in, too, as you can see. :) Thanks, and adios! **

**Spokensilenc3**


	12. Dreams, flying and childish questions

**Hi. READ THIS. I'm starting a new story. Please look at it. It's called The Dark. Thanks for the reviews... Although I've noticed there are considerably less reviews then the first few chapters. Hmmm.**

** Hope you enjoy! And the reason I couldn't update was I was banned from technology by my parents. :( **

**FANG**

Max is sitting next to me. I can feel her body warmth, her elbow leaning slightly painfully into my side. She is staring out into the sky, and I know what she's imagining. She's imagining she's soaring through the sky, the breeze blowing back her hair. It tangles and catches in the fierce wind, but she doesn't care. She's laughing gleefully, and swooping and twirling. Free. I know this because I have that same dream.

I catch sight of her face, filled with longing. Chocolate eyes large and sad with what she can't have.

"Hey," I say, swinging my legs gently into hers to catch her attention. She turns to me curiously. We're sitting in a tree, a place Max showed me near her house. She didn't let me into her house, and she changed the subject when I asked why we couldn't hang out there instead. I noticed, but dropped it. I know from experience I shouldn't pry. She'll just shut me out again.

"You know," I say, a smile touching my lips. "Even though we're, like, 'practically friends'-" I stop mid-sentence to glance at her and see her rolling her eyes, laughing a little. "-we still don't know each other that well." I finish, chuckling. She frowns slightly.

"What do you mean?" She asks, raising an eyebrow. "Like, our favourite colours and things? Doesn't that seem a bit childish for mature teenagers like us?" She asks sarcastically, half-joking. I shrug.

"Well what else do you want to do? Stare at the sky all day?" She smirks.

"Fine then." Max replies. "You go first." I tap my chin teasingly, biting back a smile.

"_Hmmm_..." I say thoughtfully. "Favourite food." She snorts.

"McDonalds." She says without hesitation. "What about you?"

"Chocolate chip cookies," I reply, chuckling slightly at the look on her face.

"Seriously?" She says disbelievingly. "That seems so weird. Like, you're all dark and macho and stuff, and then you say, '_Oh, my favourite food is chocolate chip cookies!'_" She says the last part in a high falsetto voice, before bursting into a fit of chuckles **(Max doesn't giggle.)**. I shrug again, before asking my next question.

"Favourite sport?"

She thinks for a while.

"Basketball." She replies finally, screwing up her face in concentration. An act that, despite my manliness, I can't help but think is kind of cute.

In a brotherly way, of course.

**XXX Two Days Later XXX**

**MAX**

I lean back in my seat slightly, tapping my pen to an invisible beat, hand shaking from stress ever so slightly. I ignore the teacher at the front of the classroom, droning on about some war, and chew on my already red fingernail beds.

I lost my fight.

Again.

We're short of food and money.

Again.

Ari's hungry.

_Again_.

I feel like I'm going to explode. I don't know what I'm going to do this time. The next fight is nearly a month away, and we can't survive that long without food. All of my ribs are nearly visible, and Ari's once plump cheeks are gaunt and hollow. I can't borrow any money- my pride is too damaged already.

It looks like I'll have to go back to what I do best.

Stealing.

And to think I convinced myself I had given it up.

**Sorry it's so short. It's mainly a filler, but important too, because it shows the development in the Fax relationship, and leads on to the next chappie, which will hopefully come a bit sooner... Please give me criticism! Review! I'm trying to get to 50 reviews... Help me? :) **

**Silenc3**


	13. The art of stealing teddy bears

**So I've decided to take the advice of one of my reviewers (TheNightOwl13) and I'm gonna try to update regularly. I have a feeling this is gonna fail, but I'm still gonna try. So maybe I'll update... Once a week? At least. But I'll be expecting at least one review before I'm posting another chapter. So yeah. Hope you like the new chappie. **

**MAX**

I weave through the crowds, not looking anywhere but straight ahead of me. My stride is strong and purposeful; I look like any other busy worker on a Monday morning. Yeah, sue me- I skipped school. But eating is more important than a good education. I glance down at my phone, clicking the 'home' button to reveal the time in glowing green letters. 7:01. Right on time.

I quickly manoeuvre through the busy streets of California City **(I'm Australian. What do you expect?)**, scanning the perimeter for any unlucky candidates. I see a small, eight year old girl clutching a twenty-dollar note and leaning up on the counter of an ice cream store- an easy target. My subconsciousness kicks in. _Nope_. _I'm not stooping that low as to steal from children. _

A fat man, eating a hamburger on a bench. He's wearing an expensive suit- no doubt his pockets are deeper than mine ever will be. I quickly shake my head to myself. _Keep on track_. He finally finishes the greasy meal, throwing out the package in an overflowing bin and coughing loudly into his hand. I follow him as he wades through the crowd of people, trying to keep him in sight as the streams of people seem to try and block my way to my prize.

The distance isn't necessary- the man continues through the people without a glance back. I see the edge of a fat wallet peeking out of his back pocket, and grin despite myself. He probably has at least two fifties in there, maybe more. That could last us nearly a month, if we're careful.

Suddenly, a hand on my shoulder stops me. An Asian man with a large camera around his neck gazes at me with wide eyes, speaking in broken English. **(I'm not meaning to offend anybody.)** He holds out a map, tapping one of the large shopping malls rapidly.

I brush off his hand irritably, ignoring his confused babble. The fat man I was trailing is long gone. I swear to myself, walking quickly away from the lost Asian tourist and gritting my teeth in annoyance. Now I will have to find another 'victim'.

I gaze over the city, pursing my lips thoughtfully. Where do the richest people go?

I find the answer almost immediately, my eyes drawn to the tall, golden building with people almost revolving around it. The Hotel Haven, or as it's just called, Haven, is the most popular, tourist-attracting place in California. (**I'm making this up.)** All the rich people, when they get tired of their _oh so hard jobs_ go to relax for a couple of months before going back to their simply _horrible_ lives.

Yeah right.

**Xx**

I dawdle outside of Haven, trying to look as innocent as possible- which is pretty hard, when you're, well, me. I refrain from biting my already-bleeding nails and pull a hat down on my face, no doubt looking highly suspicious. I tuck my hair into the back of the cap, so nobody sees that I'm a girl. I slouch a bit, concealing my height, and hopefully my baggy hoodie covers most of my shape. Hopefully, everyone sees a brooding teenage boy, around fourteen or so.

I watch the rich people disdainfully as they strut out of Haven, looking back at me with equal annoyance. A small girl points and whispers, clutching a fluffy teddy bear. I scowl back at her, noting a teddy bear display on to my right- Ari's fifth birthday is coming up, so I might just have to snag one on my way out.

Haven's reception room is huge. It has glass chandeliers, and the whole thing is practically _dripping_ millions. What I'm planning to do is enter through the double front doors, and look around a bit, before bumping into someone 'accidentally'. I'll then skilfully pocket their own fat wallet, and hopefully on the way out I'll grab a teddy bear without anyone noticing.

I take deep, slow breaths carefully. My focus is completely on my target- a small woman, around forty, with a fake smile and grey hair. She's signing in at the reception desk, towing a small red suitcase. I can see her purse sitting on the top of the suitcase- a long, black thing embedded with real-looking jewels. Hopefully there's a few fifties in there.

I stride in the automatic doors, hunching my neck over so nobody sees my face. I wander around the room for a minute, watching the woman from the corner of my eye. She's waiting for her room key, looking impatient.

Not yet.

I admire the way the light catches in the chandeliers, feeling out of place with my dirty converses and hoodie. I want to get out of here as soon as possible. Finally, the woman gets her room key;

_NOW_.

I turn around just as she does, bumping into her and hastily grabbing her wallet off the suitcase and smoothly tucking it into my shirt, before looking up at the woman with a shocked expression.

"Oh, sorry." I say. "I'm so clumsy- I always do that. I'm so sorry." I'm purposely babbling- hopefully the woman will get annoyed and want me to go away as soon as possible. And that's exactly what happens. The woman brushes me off irritably and stalks off, luggage in a tow.

I conceal my smile and focus on my next target- the owner of the teddy bear stand. It's a bored looking teenage boy, around seventeen, with a moody look and serious acne. As I get closer I notice earplugs tucked into his ears, and mentally grin. This is going to be piece of cake.

The teddies are a bit bigger than the size of my hand, so I decide to tuck one into the waistband of my pants- my hoodie will conceal the shape of it. I walk purposefully past the stall, never glancing at the teenager.

Just as I pass the teddy bear stand- there's a whole barrel of them- I reach out and quickly snag a little bear, with button black eyes and a ribbon around its neck. I tuck it into the top of my pants, and keep on walking out the doors and into the busy streets. Once I'm far enough away, I take off the hoodie, and the hat, and straighten up my back. I look like a different person. I clutch the small teddy in my hands.

Ari will love it.

But, just as I turn into another street, weaving myself into the crowds, a shout rings out:

"Hey! _You!_ I saw what you did!" And a sudden, strong hand stops me in my tracks.

**Ok, cliff-hanger! I worked all night on this, and I'm sick, so you better like it. Review, please! **

**Spoken **


	14. Caught, a new roomie and ray-bans

**Hiya. Sorry for those of you who hated the cliffie... I said I would update soon. So here it is. **

**MAX**

I freeze, all my muscles tensing as I clench my jaw. The hand is still there on my shoulder, and my mind races, calculating what to do next.

_Stupid! _I mentally berate myself. _You let yourself get caught. You should've been more aware. _

I spin around, catching a glimpse of brown hair and fake ray-bans before I punch the person, right in the face, cracking the sunglasses and possibly his nose before I run, zigzagging and clutching the teddy to my body and swearing furiously at myself. I duck into a smallish alley, hoping to lose my pursuer- I glance behind me, and sure enough, there he is, with his trademark cracked ray-bans and dark hair.

"Hey!" He yells again. ""I don't wanna hurt ya! I just wanna talk!" He speaks like the people I fight speak- lazily, with a hidden dangerous undertone. He speaks like someone from the streets.

That's not good.

If he lives on the street, he'll be even more eager to turn me in or even rob me himself- it's almost guaranteed he has it rough with money, so if the police don't offer a good enough reward for the stolen goods, he'll just take them himself.

I need that money.

I quicken my pace, weeks of hunger and old scars making me breathe heavily. I glance down at my hand, which is stinging for some reason, and curse loudly as I see my knuckles pouring blood. They must've been cut-up when I socked the guy on the sunglasses. It's my right hand- my dominant punching hand. It will hurt like crazy if I hit anything- or anyone- else for a while. So knowing me, I'll be going through a lot of pain.

_"Hey!" _I'm surprised to hear the voice so close- I quicken my pace, but obviously not enough, as the guy reaches out again and snags my shoulder. I growl, and turn, assuming a fighting stance. He frowns, and opens his mouth.

"I don't wanna hurt ya," He repeats slowly. I glare, my arm still trapped in his grip.

"Let me go." I say dangerously through gritted teeth. His smile is condescending.

"Oh, y'know, I don't really feel like it anymore... I would be willing to do it for a price, hmmm?" I see red.

"Look, buddy." I growl. "I just stole freaking money and a teddy bear cause me and my nearly five-year-old brother are starving, and I lost all of my street fights, and I convinced myself that I'd given stealing up, but obviously I was lying, and then you show up, all 'I'm not gonna hurt ya' and 'I'll let you go for a price', and I could break your hand right now, and I'm this close to punching you in the face again and breaking your nose. So don't push it." I finish my speech with a deadly glare, then turn to go, shaking my arm from his grip.

"So you're homeless too?" I hear.

I turn curiously.

"No," I say. He gets a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"So what's your name?" He asks suddenly. I frown.

"It doesn't matter." I say. He shrugs.

"Mine's Ratchet." He says. It's quiet for a moment, and I turn to leave again, but he stops me.

"So you have a little brother?" He asks. I nod, trying to hide my embarrassment.

"I didn't mean to tell you that." I say shortly. "Just forget it." He smiles a little.

"Me too. Annoying little brat, but, y'know, I do what I gotta." A tiny sting in my heart stops me. I hesitate.

_You can't save every adult and kid out there,_ I think to myself. But there's one nagging part of my brain telling me to help him... I could end up like him in a few years. Maybe then he would help me.

"Um... We have a spare room." I say slowly, still not sure if I'm making the right decision. "You guys could, maybe, stay there if you wanna." Ratchet's eyes brighten a little, and I can see him trying to conceal his grin.

"Awesome." He says without hesitation. He knows, like any other relatively smart street kid out there, not to refuse a good opportunity when you see one. "I'll go get Holden."

**XX**

He arrives a few minutes later with a skinny little kid around ten years old. He has a long-sleeved shirt, even though it's not cold, and dull green eyes. He grimaces when he sees me, and gives a little wave. Something nags at me in the back of mind, and I frown. It's almost like I recognise him...

I shake my head and smile back.

"Hey," I say. "I'm Max."

**Ok, so sorry it's a bit late and short. Hope you liked. The characters are gonna be a bit different, as you can see. Holden's a bit different. So, did you expect that? Tell me in reviews. :) And also, what do you think will happen next? Thanks. Bye! **

**SS ;) **


	15. A brick wall, dog tags and flirting

**So I tried to update soon. I totally agree with you Pain-is-just-a-message... :) (Although I wouldn't call my story awesome... Thanks though.) Thanks for the reviews, hope you like. **

**MAX**

I turn as Ratchet enters the room, examining every inch of the room he and Holden are staying in. He gives a faint smirk.

"It'll do," He shrugs. But I can tell by the look that he gives me that he really is grateful. I snort.

"Glad you like it so much." I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I glance around the room again. Mom is staying in the room as far away from this one as possible- I don't want Ratchet to find out about her. Ari and Holden are outside, Ari showing Holden all his favourite places. Ari is thrilled to have more people in the house.

The room Ratchet and Holden are staying in is my old bedroom, the one I used before we knew dad died and Dylan left to get drunk.

Now I sleep on the floor of Ari's room in an inflatable mattress we used to use for camping, before Jeb moved us to the city. I haven't been in here for a while, and everything is under a layer of dust. The bed, a light blue single with a thick mattress coated in dirt, sits in the corner of the room, sagging and creaky.

"Holden can have the bed." Ratchet says. I nod. I would have done the exact same thing with Ari.

"Cool," I say. "There are a few drawers you can put stuff in..." I shuffle through the desk I used to use for homework, bringing up a cloud of dust. I cough and Ratchet winces, waving a hand in front of his face and adjusting his cracked ray-bans. I leave the drawers in the desk open and go over to the window, gazing out.

We have a horrible view, and right in front of the window is another apartment building- every morning I stayed in this room I woke up to the lovely sight of a brick wall. But if you tilt your head at just the right angle, and go on your tiptoes, you can catch a rare glimpse of the city, all the cars moving like tiny ants and the buildings reaching up into the clouds.

"Max," I hear Ratchet's voice and half-turn, my side still facing the grimy window.

"Yeah." I say distractedly. He walks over.

"Who's this?" He brings an old photo, wrinkled and torn on one side. It's a man, around thirty years old, smiling and handsome with a small girl on his shoulders. I stare into my father's brown eyes, blinking back tears and feeling my shoulders slump as shock radiates through my body. I sit down on the bed heavily, taking the photo from Ratchet wordlessly.

I hadn't allowed myself to look at that photo since three years ago. I had been strong. Now, everything was falling apart with my dad's smiling face right in the middle, and my tiny arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Ratchet's voice interrupts my haze.

"Are you ok?" I nod, wiping my face to catch any stray drops of salty liquid and licking my lips.

"Where did you find it?" My voice is scratchy and I clear my throat, repeating the question strongly. _Be strong. _

"Just in the drawer," Ratchet replies. "I also found this." He pours something into my hand, and I feel my eyes go blurry again.

It's an old dog tag, '_David Ride'_ inscribed in chunky lettering. Dad gave it to me when he left, from the other war he was in, and told me to keep it safe.

I did.

**XX**

**IGGY**

"Iggy?!" I jolt awake from my doze abruptly as a voice rings in my ears- a sweet, innocent little voice. I grin.

"Yes, darling!" I call back, snorting as I imagine her facial expression. A taint of pink on her mocha cheeks, and fury glowing from her warm brown eyes.

"Iggy!" Nudge yells. She storms into the room, cheeks flaming. "Fang told me to ask if you want to come over." I stretch, bones cracking, and sigh in satisfaction.

"Tell Fangy boy I'll be over in ten minutes," I say, smirking. Nudge bites her lip, somehow looking incredibly cute.

"Um," She says.

"Don't worry darling," I say lazily. "You're excused." I know I'm being a jerk to Nudge. I know Max would kill me if she knew I'm flirting with a thirteen year old girl. She would think I was just leading her on, like any other girl I've ever dated.

And yet... With Nudge- it's different.

She's _different_.

**Ok, so weird ending. I'll bring on the Niggy, I promise. :) I may not be able to update for two weeks... I'm going to the US to visit family and I dunno if there'll be WiFi. But whenever I update... See you then. **

**I guess... :P**

**SS **


	16. Black dots, emptiness and hope

**Helloooo! I'm in the US now. :) It's pretty awesome, gotta say. I actually do have WiFi, evidently, so I'm updating. Evidently.**

**MAX**

"Max?" The little voice is quivering. "Maxie, what happened?" I blearily blink one eye open, wincing as my split eyebrow twinges in pain and rubbing the spots from my vision. I open the other one, licking my dry, cracked lips.

"What?" I mumble. "Nothing happened. Just another fight." My tongue is fat and heavy, stumbling over the words drunkenly. Ari stands at the end of my bed, hair ruffled and pyjamas falling short of too bony wrists and ankles.

Last night I was so beat up from my fight I had to call Iggy to pick me up- something I swore I would never do. Because although the money I stole was enough to feed us, it won't last forever. I need to win some fights, now.

"Ugh," I groan, sitting up stiffly and shaking the dizziness from my mind. I'm pretty sure I sprained my knee, and the woman I was fighting dislocated my shoulder. I popped it back in last night, but it's still sore. I run my hand through my blood-encrusted hair and grimace.

"Ari?" I say. "What time is it? Don't you need to go to school?" Ari glances up at me.

"You usually take me to school," He says, twisting his fingers anxiously. "I didn't know what to do, so I just stayed here. I thought I should let you sleep. Holden and Ratchet went with Iggy to your school." I frown. Ari should've woken me up, even if he thought he was doing the right thing. I can't get into the habit of sleeping a lot.

"Where's my phone?" I ask groggily, rubbing my forehead. I decide to not say anything about him letting me sleep- I probably needed it. He scampers from the room, returning a minute later with my chunky mobile phone. I click the 'home' button- three missed calls from Falls Elementary School. I glance to the top of the screen, and almost choke when I see the time.

"Three thirty?!" I yell, wincing immediately as the sound sends a sharp pain into my temple. Ari looks at me with fear- I almost never yell at him. I calm down immediately, seeing his panicked expression. "Sorry," I apologise. "It's just later than I thought." I squeeze his arm gently, attempting to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace.

"Mom was asking for you again." Ari says suddenly, with a sad look. "She was yelling and stuff. I wanted to call Iggy, but I didn't know how." His lower lip trembles, and he looks down. I see a fat tear drip slowly down his nose.

My heart breaks, seeing him so vulnerable and small. His tiny shoulders shake silently, and I want nothing more than to pull him close and wipe the tears from his eyes. But my head is pounding and I just can't seem to move. I press a hand to my temple and try to erase the pressure that seems to lay under my skin.

I glance at Ari again- why is he crying?

"Ari?" My speech slurs and I blink the black dots from my vision. There's a high-pitched, constant ringing sound right in my ears.

"Max?" The sound echoes in my mind long after Ari says it.

"Ari," I cough. "Call Iggy. Do you wanna play?" Ari looks at me in confusion, and I know I'm not making any sense. But the buzz in my head is really annoying, and I can't focus on anything else and my vision is starting to go black and-

**XX**

_Beep. _

_Beep._

_Beep. _

"How is she?"

_Beep_.

"Nothing too severe. Just a minor concussion, and fatigue. Her shoulder was dislocated, and her ankle had a minor sprain. All in all though, nothing too bad."

_Beep. _

I recognize that voice.

Iggy?

"Iggy?" I open my eyes slowly. But all at once, there is brightness and people staring at me and black dots clouding my sight. I squeeze them shut again.

"Max!" I feel a sudden weight on my chest, and then there's Ari, jumping on me and hugging me, and my shoulder burns but I grab Ari and hold him tight. I have to open my eyes to see his bright green eyes, and all the blinding lights seem bearable with him there. I see Iggy standing there too, smiling fondly with a tinge of worry in his eyes, looking relieved.

I open my arms for him, and he squeezes me tight.

"You scared me," He whispers into my hair.

I smile, squeezing my eyes shut tight against tears threatening to spill over.

"I'm sorry," I whisper back. "I'm so, so sorry."

"So I guess I get no hug." Slowly, I open my eyes at the new voice.

"Mom?" My voice is hesitant, untrusting. The tall, dark figure in the corner gives a little wave.

"Hey, honey." Her voice is husky- exactly how I remembered it. I shake my head slowly, staring, disbelieving.

"No," I say quietly. My mom raises an eyebrow.

"No?" She asks.

"_No,_ mom! You go off and- and- _leave_ for all those years, and then you just suddenly come back and think everything is the same and-" I press my hands against my forehead. I shake my head again.

"It's just not the same," I say. "You can't act like it is. I saw how it was. I looked after you. I still _do_. I pay for the rent, for food-" I cut myself off.

_When did everything change? A year ago you would have done anything to get your mom back._ Now all I feel is coldness, with a tiny spark of anger. No hope, or joy. But as I catch sight of Ari's face, I see all the things I'm missing. Innocence. Hope. He really believes it can all be better now.

"Just no." I finish.

Mom is still unmoving.

"Well, honey, I'm sorry you feel that way." She says finally. "I wish we could be together on better terms. But I'm still technically your legal guardian, and you need me. So think about that." With that, she leaves.

Iggy and Ari are staring at me as she walks out.

"What are you gonna do now?" Iggy asks finally.

"The same thing I've been doing for years," I reply, my eyes never leaving the door. "Deal with it."

**XX**

When I get home from the hospital, nearly two days later, I see my mom in her room. Gazing blankly at the window, a cigarette held loosely in one hand. I clench my fist angrily.

Ari will be so disappointed.

**So that's it. :) Review please. And also, I wanna know about the people reading my fanfic... What's your favourite song and artist? I feel like I want to get to know you better, if you know what I mean. And that's the single, most important question of all time. :) **

**Hope you liked it. **


	17. Maths, older brothers and group therapy

**Sorry. I'm really sorry. I know it's been like a month and I've just been so busy and jet lagged and sick and someone I really love has lung cancer and... Ugh. I'm sorry.**

**MAX****  
**  
$800.

The numbers stare up at me- mocking, laughing.

I'll never be able to pay for that.

I stare at the hospital bill in despair, the numbers swimming in front of my eyes.

_$800. _

"Maax?!" A stumbling, drunk figure reaches for me. I sigh and shake off Dylan's hand.

"I'm busy," I murmur, biting my lip and adding up the total in my head.

$50+$200+$300+$35...

That only added up to $585, even though I took off money from groceries and supplies, and added the money from my fights. I'll have to steal again, although every time I take money it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. That's money that could be used for a woman's husband who needs hip surgery. That could be the money a hopeful fiancée is saving up for his wedding.

I try to tell myself I need it more.

"Ma-ax! I'm hungry!" Ever since my older brother arrived at my doorstep yesterday, he's done nothing but whine. He's drunk off his head half the time, and the other half he's sleeping.

He's nothing but trouble for the family, using up precious money for food, and it sure is hard explaining a blonde drunk to Holden and Ratchet, but I can't bring myself to abandon Dylan. I know he would've done the same for me- because I'm his sister. He cares about me, even with the alcohol.

I try so hard to convince myself that it's true, yet I know it isn't.

Dylan wouldn't look twice at me if I showed up at his doorstep.

I sigh.

_Why is it I always love people who can't love me back?_

$35+$275+$100...

XX

"Maximum, how nice to see you." Through the sugary facade, I can see how annoyed Dr Dwyer is to see me. Although, in fairness, I don't think she'd trying very hard. Ever since our first meeting, I've had to attend her weekly therapist sessions. She's been growing increasingly angry at me for my constant skipping and tardiness.

"Maximum, I have decided in your... absence that I will be putting you in group therapy. I hope meeting peers in the same situation as you will help you on your path to healing." She always talks about that- healing. Is that what I need to do? Heal? Am I some broken toy that needs to be fixed? Is there something wrong with me?

_Of course there's something wrong with you._

You're broken.

Corrupted.

You can't be fixed. 

"Group therapy, Maximum. Look at me." I slowly meet Dr Dwyer's blank eyes, pushing the thoughts from my mind.

"I understand if you feel nervous," She says gently, as if I may fall apart at the slightest harsh word.

_Please, woman. I've been dealing with harsh words all my life. _

"It's perfectly acceptable for you to feel that way- but you need to get over that feeling, overcome that overwhelming instinct-" She continues, and my temper bubbles.

"Listen," I begin, standing up and cutting her off. "I know you just want to help. I know this is your job. But I know you don't care about me, I know you don't give two craps, I know you're only doing this to get paid but I wish you would just freaking _give up! _Stop _pretending!" _

My screams meet deaf ears.

"I'm concerned you feel that way, Maximum. Perhaps you would like another session on Friday to talk about it?"

**I know it's short. I'll try and update soon. Please, please review. It helps me so much.**

Spokensilenc3


	18. Ella, dark secrets and meeting places

**Thanks so much for all of your support. Thanks to all of you who mentioned the someone... I prefer not to say who, but lets just say its someone I love very much, and it's a bit hard to focus on anything. Hence, this chapter was written on several different occasions. I hope you like it, anyway.**

**MAX**

"Hi everyone. My name is Renee.." The girl standing up at the front looks ready to puke.

"Hi Renee." The whole room seems to mumble dully, not looking up or really caring at all. I glance around from where I sit, as far back as I could get in a freaking tiny room.

'Renee' smiles tightly, not showing any teeth. She takes a deep breath, gripping her bony hands so hard they turn white, the blood disappearing from the surface of her skin.

"Um, I got admitted for paranoia, mostly." She gives a nervous laugh. "Actually, that's kind of all I got admitted for, apart from the.." Her small voice trails off in my mind, and honestly, I don't care. I just want to get this over with so I can get back home to Ari. I look up again, observing the rest of group therapy.

There's a handsome boy with a lip piercing, wearing a leather jacket with studs. His head is dipped low on the desk, black hair falling over his eyes, and I can see a long scar peeking out from his sleeve. His fingers tap a slow, steady rhythm on the desk.

A scarily skinny girl pinches her thigh, hard, long, blood-red nails digging into flesh, and I see rows of other red marks already littering her pale skin. Her face is emotionless and she stares out the window, looking like any other teenage girl with her short skirt and neat blouse. I'm the only one who pays attention to the fine details, the small things that define us as therapy kids. The ones who need 'help'.

A small girl, who looks way too young to be here, talks quietly to someone no one else can see. She has childish features, and round, blue eyes.

"But Sammy," she says quietly. "What is if I get in trouble? You know they banned my smokes from the last time I was caught."

I glance away to a couple noisily making out at the front, the girl punk-looking with purple hair and black lipstick now smeared all over the boy's face, who fits the stereotype of 'jock' perfectly. I know he has secrets, too, though. Everyone does.

I grimace and turn to the front. The Renee girl has finished talking and we all murmur,

"God bless, Renee." It's the routine- no person is different, and it makes me sick. No one in this room really cares, not even the therapist. Why did we have to pretend we do?

The group therapist, Dr Gozen, glances up from her paperwork.

"Anyone else?" She asks.

To most everyone's surprise, the jock stops kissing the punk-looking girl and raises his hand, wiping his face slowly to get rid of any remaining black lipstick. He stands up and makes his way to the front, turning around and shuffling his feet.

"Hi. My name's Daniel..." He starts, staring at the ground.

"Hi Daniel." We chant dutifully.

"Well, uh.. My problem is sorta complicated. It started when I was four- I uh, had serious anger issues.. I would have temper tantrums like you've never seen before." He chuckles to himself, not looking up, as though fearful of what he might see.

_You wouldn't see anything special,_ I want to say to him. _Just a group of kids who don't give a damn about you. _

And as much as I want to listen to him, to understand and solve all his little problems, I can't. I have my own problems to take care of.

I lay my head on the desk, and am just staring to drift off as the door bangs open loudly, startling me into sitting up.

"Sorry I'm late," A girl bursts in, and I'm shocked.

It's Ella.

Her hair's messy and wind blown, and her face is flushed. She offers a sheepish smile.

"I was going to take the bus," she pants. "But I forgot my wallet- so I had to run," Ella laughs nervously.

Dr Gozen looks bored.

"Yeah, yeah, Ella. We all know you didn't remember you had therapy today until two minutes before you had to start running." She smirks. "You always did have a bad memory."

Ella gives a weak laugh.

"Yeah," she agrees, but I see she's not telling the full truth. There's more to Ella than it seems at first- she has layers and layers of secrets, and I'm starting to wonder if that's what I look like to the world. I may be a whole lot more unpleasant, and not nearly as innocent-looking, but once you look inside, we're more alike than anyone would think.

As Ella hurries to her desk at Dr Gozen's command, I notice for once how tired she looks. I begin to wonder about her.

_Does she have two jobs, like me? _

_Does she have a younger brother she looks after every second of every day? _

_Is she an orphan? _

_Why is she so short on money in the first place? _

_Have I finally found someone who might actually understand what I'm going through? _

I need to know more about her. She's no ordinary teenager, like any other person in this room, but I like her. She seems like a good person, and although I can't save everyone in this horrible planet-_ as I keep telling myself_- I can try. And I might as well start with Ella.

**XX**

After therapy is over, I approach Ella outside int he parking lot, placing a hand on her shoulder. She starts, and looks shocked when she sees it's me, as she basically slept the whole session and never looked up from her desk.

"Hey," I say softly.

"Uh, hi." She stammers.

"Look," I start, since we both know why I'm here. "I know you may not wanna talk about it.. And I know for sure you don't want me asking questions. But believe me- it's better to talk to someone." I raise my hand as she starts to protest. "You did me a favour, before, with Nudge. And I'm only returning it."

Ella looks defeated, giving up surprisingly fast.

"Ok." She says quietly. I nod silently.

"Where do you want to meet?" I ask.

She sighs heavily.

"Here, tomorrow. We'll talk, but I can't guarantee we'll ever talk again." She presses her lips tightly together, and I suddenly feel a rush of sympathy for her. If what she's going through is anything like my situation, she must be in some deep crap.

"I know how you feel." I mutter, so quiet I don't know if she heard.

She gives a short nod, and then she turns, and I watch her as she fades into the crowd.

**Is that creepy? Oh well. I can assure you guys this is only sisterly Mella. Ok? **

**Thanks again for all your reviews. I would like to reach a hundred, which would be awesome.. I never thought I would ever get a hundred reviews. And from chapter before last, where I asked you what your fav. band was, thanks for all your answers! I was really interested and I even found some new bands I like. I'm gonna ask you another question now. **

**_What's the one most important thing about you, and if you follow/play sport, what's your favourite team? _**

**Cool. You can answer either one or both, whatever. I just like knowing who's reading my stories. :) **

**Bye. **

**PS I know it's short, and sorry again. **


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